


Broken From Bending

by ruric



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: comment_fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-14
Updated: 2009-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been weeks since she’d heard from him and she’d begun to think he was never going to call her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken From Bending

She pushes the door open into yet another motel room. It's been weeks since she’d heard from him and she’d begun to think he was never going to call her. 

This time he’s standing in the middle of the room and one look at him, at the slump of his shoulders and she doesn’t need any of her extra senses that comes with who and _what_ she is to see what’s going on. She doesn’t need to see his face to know what expression he’ll be wearing.

Even this body, with its crude ability to read people could tell it’s finally over between them.

“Sam?”

She makes her voice soft, she doesn’t even have to force compassion or empathy. 

She was with him those months after Dean died, she lived with his guilt and helplessness and anger. With or without the blood he’s been taking from her she can feel his potential, she can feel his power every time she touches him and she knows what he could be – if only he’ll take the final step.

She really does _know_ Sam in ways Dean will never, ever understand. 

Dean has finally pushed too hard and not trusted enough – there are so many ways this could have gone down differently but “if only’s” are no good to either of them now.

His spine stiffens, shoulders straightening as he turns to face her and underneath the sullen anger in his eyes behind the bitterness that twists his lips into a travesty of a smile she can feel the aching sense of loss, even before she reaches out to lay a hand on his arm.

He shakes his head and she sees him swallow, watches him try and bottle up the rage and hurt and pain. 

If Dean had trusted Sam she wouldn’t be here now and she wouldn’t be winning. 

But the victory doesn’t bring joy just the taste of ashes to her tongue. Winning always comes with a price – it’s just that not everyone knows what that is until the end - and they’re all expendable in the grand scheme of things.

Her arms slide around his waist and she steps in close, rests her head on his chest and listens to the solid thump of his beating heart.

“I’m so sorry, Sam.”

It’s kind of fucked up that she means it. 

She didn’t mean to fall in love with him and in falling in love with him she’s come to respect Dean too. Impossible that she’s come to care for both of them but her hands are tied and she’s bound to her task.

Even when his hope is gone she can’t let him fail, not now when they’re so close. 

So she’ll hold him for a while and let him grieve, then she’ll give him her blood and her body, give him anything he needs for her to be able to set his feet back on the path to their final destination.

There’s too much at stake for any of them to fail now.


End file.
